


Watch him

by catididnt



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cain and Abel, Crowley is still Crawley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catididnt/pseuds/catididnt
Summary: After Eden, Crawley follows the humans, meets their first baby, and sticks around.
Relationships: Crowley & Eve (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Watch him

**Author's Note:**

> "And I will put enmity between you and the women, and between your offspring and hers; they will crush your head and you will strike their heel." -Genesis 3:15

After the first storm, the sun returned and heated the sands. Called to answer Heaven's questions, about humans and the apple, the angel from the wall left the Garden. Already suffering from Heaven's wrath himself, God's wrath he supposed, Crawley might've apologized for the trouble he caused, if he'd any idea how to apologize. Wasn't his fault Heaven put a guard on the wall instead of inside; wasn't the angel's fault either. Heaven should've figured out themselves that casting half of everyone into Hell meant they'd be rising up from below to extract revenge, not flying down from above. Didn't seem fair to blame the angel when they posted him at the wrong place.

Not that Heaven, or Earth, seemed all that concerned with fair. The humans exiled because of a snack and all snakes cursed to slither on their belly because one demon depended on them to create his physical form. Fortunately, slithering provided more fun than walking. Let the other animals deal with joints and limbs, Crawley and his new animal kin oscillated.

Not about to return to Hell on his own, especially when provided such vague orders to begin with, Crawley followed Adam and Eve across the warm sands. Really, Hell only sent him up to see how fast the angels would smite a demon, and maybe get an idea of what the Garden looked like. Once it came to really messing up the humans, they'd send one of their favorites, or themselves. But now the humans were out of Eden, somewhere across all these wonderfully warm sands, and Hell would need to come up with new plans. Crawley could do whatever he wanted until they called on him again, if they even remembered him.

Hopefully they wouldn't want too much; he'd not really done anything yet. Adam accepted that apple as soon as Eve offered, and she'd been eyeing that tree before Crawley showed up. A snake hardly need whisper a suggestion, hadn't even known what he suggested, and she approached the Tree of Knowledge. He rather liked that. Even not knowing, she'd known she'd questions and where to find answers. Worse, he knew he exile for wanting answers too. And God wasn't really any nicer to the humans than the angels.

But his tongue found dozens of other scents on the sands, and more storms passed, days rolling into each other, and he lost track of the humans twice before he heard a distinct cry ahead. Small, forceful, not an injured or terrified animal. A continuously piecing wail... with words under it. Becoming human, Crawley stumbled while trying to remember how hips and knees - and ankles - worked. (He'd done snakes a favor, getting rid of all these joints.)

Finding a path for a human among rows of wheat, when a snake could've just slithered through them, he followed it to the source of the noise. A cave, the overhand hiding the interior in shadows. Probably good for humans, the hot sun already soaked into his black robes.

"Wha - Who's there?" Pacing just within, Eve spun about as she heard him. Not screaming herself, she carried the noise producer in her arms - A little... human? Generally human shaped, with arms and legs and head, but pudgier, rounder, proportions all off. "You're the snake. The Snake of Eden"

Though he tried to look at her and the blue blue cloth she wore, covering everything from her hair to her feet, he kept staring at the little human. It was so very small.

"You won't eat him, Snake." Her voice a command, his eyes finally jerked up.

"Why would I eat him?" Hearing his voice, the tiny human stopped screaming and stared. His eyes were huge, deep brown and reminiscent of Adam's. "My name is Crawley," he added, "not Snake."

"Snakes don't crawl anymore, Crawley. You haven't got legs."

He shrugged. "He's got legs. And arms, I guess. Does he crawl? What is he?"

"My son."

"A human young?"

"A baby."

He looked from her stiff chin to the little, round human and back. "Is he supposed to look like that?"

"Yes," she snapped, holding her head higher and the little human closer, but her glare deflated and she huffed. "I think so. I've never seen a human baby before. Have you?"

So far, he'd seen two humans and talked to only one of them. "No. How'd you get him? From your rib?"

Her laughter echoed in the cave, surprising her son. With a little cry, not a wail, just a noise, he waved his stubby little arms at Crawley - and his hair. It wasn't like the humans' hair, too red, falling straight down in a mess, but when Eve noticed it, her eyes lit up.

"If you're going to keep showing up, you'll need to be useful. Watch him." She stepped closer and shoved the baby into his arms. "I've flax to separate. Keep him occupied, pace in circles, he likes that. His name is Cain."

Trying to object, the little human gathered in his arms, she already disappeared deeper into the cave. With a squeal, a happy scream by the look on Cain's face, he seized Crawley's hair, tangling it in tiny fingers and yanked. Bracing so his head wouldn't jerk, Crawley hardly noticed the pain. The memory of the Fall still fresh, hair pulling barely registered.

"Adam is with the sheep, past the fields, toiling for our food," Eve continued, moving somewhere in the cave, beyond the delighted baby. That'd been God's curse for man, 'through painful toil you will eat.' Or something. With the little human, the baby, in his arms and pulling at his hair, Crawley didn't care what God had said. Whatever it was, it wouldn't matter to these giggles. "Pain with childbirth was poor warning for the reality. And I have to toil, too, on top of it giving birth." Recalling the punishments, realizing they'd matter to the fully grown humans, Crawley paced deeper into the cave, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. She sat on a rug of woven grasses, pulling apart long stems.

"You're not going to crush my head, are you? Where's the flaming sword?" That'd crush him sure enough, but her low fire burned wood, nothing angelic about it.

"You keep Cain amused," she began, and paused as she looked up from her chore. Attempting to climb into Crawley's hair, Cain hadn't quite the strength to hold on, so Crawley had lifted him, letting him hold on from within his hair. Again Eve laughed, lighter this time, and she sighed. "Keep him amused, don't bite our heels, and your head is safe. We traded the sword ages ago, for clothing and knives."

With another high pitched squeal, a palm smacked Crawley's face, just missing his eye, and then Cain giggled again, fingers wiggling closer to his yellow eyes.

"His fingernails are so tiny!" Demons started as angels, and angels came into being as adults, just like Adam and Eve. He'd seen small animals, and even young among them, but none so special as this tiny, little human baby. Carefully, he slipped a finger under Cain's, and Cain's itty-bitty, little fingers closed over his own long one. With so much energy and no dexterity, Cain waved Crawley's hand back and forth while his other tugged on Crawley's hair and he kicked his chubby legs, Crawley holding him upright despite his gleeful attack. His little round body wiggled in delight at nothing except sharing a moment with Crawley. Nothing in all of existence ever adored him as much as this tiny human.

"They're sharp," Eve warned, her voice soft as she returned to her task.

When he could bare to take his eyes off Cain, Crawley would ask why she pulled the reeds apart and what flax was, and if he could help. He wanted to know who they traded with and how they'd found color for her clothes and how they made such a small perfect human.

Shoving Crawley's finger tip into his mouth, Cain gnawed at it with his gums.

Years on, he found out more answer than he wanted about human babies coming into the world. By then, he'd witnessed any number of animals give birth, a messy, bloody process. But Eve laughed, and Adam sighed, when they promised humans didn't drop young as sheep or dogs. Or cats either, the felines Crowley's favorite among the animals. The sheep feared him, especially at first, and the dogs suspected him, but the cats looked directly at him. Neither afraid nor concerned, they knew he wasn't human and didn't care. Besides, he kept Cain amused, which meant the child left their tails alone.

And then Abel arrived among Eve's screams while Adam knelt before her and Crawley held her up. Even when Adam caught the new baby, stepping aside to clean him up, he told Crawley to keep Eve supported and she created new words to express her pain. A bloody something else followed the baby and only then did they clean her up and help her lay down. Afterward, when she slept and Adam cooled to Abel, Crawley escaped. All that because of an apple? 

Hoping for quiet, fresh air, and space to regret his part in the pain she endured, Crawley instead stumbled over Cain. No longer tiny but still small, he looked even smaller, legs pulled tight to his chest, eyes wide and filled with tears.

"Is she going to die?"

Dropping into the space next to him, no idea how Cain folded his limbs so neatly, Crawley forced a smile and shook his head. If confident of nothing else, he knew this for certain. "Eve will live a long time."

Adam remained a godly man, generous in his offerings, and Eve obeyed, however she grumbled or laughed. Though exiled, God still smiled on them, occasionally even spoke to them. So far as he knew, none of them mentioned Crawley. God's curse meant Eve suffered in childbirth, but she'd not die from it.

"She'll feel better after she rests," he added, needing to say something mroe to Cain's large eyes. "She knew it would hurt like this. It hurt last time too and it was a surprise then. She was ready this time."

He never really heard how they managed the first time, not except for looks and preparations this time. And some of the sentiments Eve just shared at the top of her lungs, blaming Adam and Crawley. Adam managed to sooth her occasionally, and she still laughed at a few of Crawley's comments, but most everything they said hadn't helped. They couldn't do anything about the pain and he wasn't so foolish to risk interfering even to ease her pain. He was still a demon, after all.

"Last time?" Cain had pressed into his side, still staring up at him. Before Crawley could dodge, Cain understood the implication. "Me? When I was born? I hurt her like that?"

At least Crawley knew better than point out Cain hurt her more, when he arrived so recently after she left the Garden. A surprise unlike anything the humans could possible expect, and he was glad that angel gave them a sword to trade away. They wouldn't have anything otherwise. "You didn't hurt her, neither did Abel. Giving birth hurts, not the baby. You didn't do it. You're the best part, you and Abel. You make the pain worth it."

If they could blame anyone, it'd be Crawley, or Eve herself. He suggested it and she ate the apple. And God didn't have to curse her that badly.

Though not really reassured, Cain let Crawley talk him into a walk.

Past the crawling stage, which had amused Cain because it was also Crawley's name, Abel learned to toddle and tried to keep up with his brother. Cain didn't find this amusing, which was why Crawley and Cain were away from the cave, weaving new mats, when an angel - not his angel - showed up.

Not that the other angel was his, ever, but he'd talked to Crawley and protected him from the first storm. His angel - the angel - from the Garden and the wall, who gave his sword to Adam, providing a way to protect and provide for the family. He'd been called to Heaven afterward, poor angel, and Heaven wouldn't forgive him for the apple or the sword, not the snake or the humans.

Stiff and formal, this angel strode down the road oozing angelic power. Darker than Crowley, lighter than Adam or Eve, with thick hair loose and majestic about his face, he dressed like one of travelers, his linen of finer weave and without any sign of wear. It hadn't occurred to Crawley clothes could look like that. He'd crafted his clothes with a snap, matching the rest of the family without forcing anyone to trade for them. Darker colors, though not the complete blacks he preferred, but even if he matched them his hair, skin and eyes meant he stood out. The angels golden eyes fixed on him and, realizing he needed to get this angelic messenger away from the family, Crawley stood to face him. Whatever he wanted, he wouldn't let the angel accidentally hurt them.

Instead of hanging back, Cain stood up with him, hands tightening into fists and lip belligerent. Still half his father's size and Cain had yet to meet a danger he wouldn't face down.

"Trouble, Friend?" Adam asked, intercepting the angel, who blinked in surprise at him. Large staff in hand, Adam didn't yet intimidate, merely separated. "I assure you, despite his appearance, Crawley is harmless. He watches the children and assists my wife."

"You're..." The angel whispered, eyes wide in awe as he stepped back, but then he recalled himself and glared at Crawley again. "You cannot trust - that creature. He is all lies and deceit!"

"Stranger," he replied, his voice heavy. "Are you harmless?"

If any man could, the one cast from Eden would recognize an angel. Still faithful to the Lord, Adam never asked Crawley to leave either. Duality of man, or some such, but the demon didn't care how bad the kids smelled (they always smelled better than Hell, whatever came out after whatever they'd eaten) or how minimal the task assigned (especially when he'd miracle half of it done, so long as they didn't notice). Neither Adam nor Eve allowed him near the food, especially out of season, and both informed him nothing the children said could be counted against them, not that Crawley would endanger them or their souls but he appreciated their parents' care.

"I am a soldier," the angel said slowly, unable or unwilling to lie outright. He'd set himself up, he'd no one to blame but himself. "I am not here to harm you. I've come for the demon." Edging closer, Cain grabbed his hand and what could Crawley do but hold tight? He'd been lucky in the Garden with his angel; he wouldn't be against an angry angel. And even if he wanted, he couldn't fight. Adam and Cain were too close, and the cave not so far away.

"You come for the demon, not us," Adam commented, tone measured and hinting at something deeper. "Taking him isn't a harm to us? Take away the assistance Eve depends on? The children's nanny? Isn't that harmful?"

"You think he isn't harmful?"

Adam turned to look at Crawley, who didn't even know how to look innocent, and at Cain, who held his hand tightly, and then laughed. Shaking his head at the angel, he shrugged. "Not even his words are harmful, just tempting. He makes no decisions for us," he finally said, turning back. "When we had nothing, he helped us. Now you come to take him, not to aid us? When we were overwhelmed, why didn't you come then?"

"I have not dallied," the angel replied, still honest. Time always worked strangely in Heaven, back before Earth started. It'd not yet been a decade, as counted on Earth, and they were probably moving as quickly as they could in Heaven. Or as quickly as they assumed necessary. "I seek the Serpent of Eden to pay for his crimes."

"Crawley cares for the children and helps Eve," Adam said again. "Who are you to us? Why do you come here to harm us?"

"I..." He stopped, taking a half step back, glancing between Adam and Crawley. Unable to answer, he shuddered. "I must speak with... I will return later."

"Travel in peace," Adam replied as the angel turned away.

"And you," the angel murmured. They watched him walk away, his aura going with him, and Crawley spoke once he was gone.

"He's an angel."

"I know," Adam said. "Could you see if Eve is okay? Cain, come check the flocks with me."

Understanding the message, Crawley released Cain's hand and, with a weak smile for him, shooed him to Adam. Rather than ask what happen, as soon as Crawley arrived Eve handed him her daughter, giving her hips a swing and stretching before moving to another task, waving for him to talk while she worked. Her hands were always busy; Adam's hands were always busy. Toiling.

"It'll happen someday, I suppose," she agreed, prodding the fire back to life. "All the other parts of the curse came true. You'll bite our heels and we'll crush your head, however you'll reach our heel or we your head." She glanced up at him at the last, her eyes dancing in the firelight. He'd not been a snake in her presence since in the Garden. At first because he didn't want her or Adam thinking how easily he could fit Cain in his mouth and then because he didn't want to remember it either. Neither of them ever spoke about the Garden, not around him or when he could overhear. Only like this, and only with Eve.

"I'll regret it when it happens," she continued, her hands still working, "if I live so long. Blessing of death," she added, with a wicked grin, but not looking up this time. "Unlike you, I needn't witness everything. A kindness if I can avoid being bitten, there's - Abel! Don't put that in your mouth!" Not as absorbed with her task as it'd seemed, she already dropped everything to fish whatever he nearly chocked out of his mouth. When he started to cry, she picked him up and set him in Crawley's half occupied lap. "Put his hair in your mouth. He won't let you swallow it." Even if not as bad as Hell, having his hair tugged regularly by small, round children had lost its charm, but Abel was eager to grab it and Eve had offered, and Crawley didn't want to put her out right now.

"Earn our forgiveness before you need it," Eve said, as she sat again. "It'll make the betrayal all the more heartbreaking."

"You should hate me already. Drive me-" he cut off his warning, freeing himself from Abel's clutches and balancing him while his little sister babbled insistently. All the children were impossibly adorable when little, even when they didn't do anything. If Eve told him to leave, he'd miss seeing her grow up. Little humans becoming big humans, slightly bigger little humans, really. He'd no idea how long it took for them to get full sized, but it'd be better for them if he wasn't here to hurt them. It'd be even betterif he could untangle his hair from Abel's fingers. Eve's chuckle didn't help his argument either.

"Really. I'm a demon. Don't trust me."

"You're yourself, Snake," she said, but her amusement saddened before she turned her attention to the vegetables. "You always have been, and you still are. You think we don't notice what happens when visitors overstay? When we're cheated on trades? What doesn't happen when we're respected? You don't care we're God's People, only that we're you're people." She glanced up and shook her head. "Until something happens and we're not anymore. We all know it. I plucked that apple from the tree, Crawley. Not you, not Adam. I did. I gave up paradise and learned the pain of childbirth, the joy of motherhood. I've toiled for my food and someday the snake will bite me. I ate from the Tree of Knowledge, and I've learned so much since then. I'll accept the risks, and I'm glad for all I gained." She smiled at her children when she spoke of motherhood, sighed at the vegetables when she spoke of food, and smiled again, both at snake and her gains.

"And when you're not glad?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.

"We'll see what kind of poison you have, won't we?" She still smiled at him, her hands still working, and then she laughed outright as Abel grabbed a lock of Crawley's hair in the front and yanked, toppling Crawley entirely as he ensured the baby wouldn't tumble.

Two decades after the Garden, Hell sent a missive declaring their surprise and pleasure with The Apple. They commended his innovation, awarded him the title of 'Serpent of Eden' (which the annoying angel first called him ages ago), mentioned he impressed even Lucifer himself, encouraged him to keep causing trouble, and implied they'd have something more for him soon.

It burned as he flicked it away, ashes lost among the sharp mica at his feet. He liked sunning here, on a ledge the humans couldn't reach and shouldn't spot, the dark stones radiating heat and little else daring their deadly edges. It hadn't been like this when he arrived, the stones neither so black nor sharp, and not really mica back then either. Despite the wonderful hours spent basking in them, now he scowled at them, face twisted at Hell's compliments. Around him, past his ledge, a settlement had sprung up around Adam and Even, finding purpose and fulfillment in their company. (In their God and their faith, as well, but Crawley ignored that part, instead grateful the children had other children to play with. Never as adorable as Eve's children, the others were still cute. Not that Cain or Abel were children anymore. Cain had grown up and Abel was all but so. He tended his own plot now, even just started bringing offerings to God on his own. Instead of an annoying little brother who followed his big brother everywhere, he'd become an annoying little brother who surpassed, unintentionally insulting, his big brother when trying to impress the big brother. Crowley listened to both of them, separately, and missed the days when they pulled his hair.)

If Hell had plans, he had to get away from the family, Eve and Adam and everyone else. Hell would ensure he bit one of them, and he'd rather it be Eve's descendants, strangers so far removed they couldn't remind him of her. He couldn't bare to hurt her directly and Hell couldn't order him to do it if he was far away. Far far away. So far away that, by the time he slithered back, even her youngest child would be be old and gone.

With a huff, he flopped back on the grass. He knew better than to sit on the mica but he'd prefer that as a bed to his own thoughts. He didn't want Eve to die, not any of them. And he didn't want to miss any time with them if they would grow old and die. How long did humans even live? He couldn't imagine her or Adam except as they were now. They started that way, they should continue that way forever. But he'd seen other humans age, humans who'd started off as babies themselves. If Eve and Adam had to age like that, he should be here to help them. He'd been here so far.

Their children would be with them, the entire community. They didn't really need Crawley anymore, if they ever needed him whenever Eve insisted he'd better not disappear on her. No one needed him, even Hell forgot about him for decades. He needed to leave. He didn't want to leave. It wouldn't matter what he wanted if-

"Demon."

With an exaggerated groan, Crowley pulled himself upright to glare at the angel standing over him in all his radiant glory. Perfect in every way, stunning white robes perfectly arranged, terrifying and awe-inspiring, even if he kept his wings folded out of sight and his sword didn't flame. Grumbling expletives, most of them invented by Eve, Crawley pulled his knees closer and rubbed his face. First a message from Hell and now a messenger from Heaven. This day couldn't get any worse.

"Your crimes are without recourse. I will send you back to Hell."

After a long, purposeful stare at the angel, Crowley pulled himself to his feet in the way that caused both Adam and Eve to shutter and worry for his joints. Swaying, he smiled at the angel beside him then walked backward, his sandals crunching in the mica, until he reached the opposite side of the ledge. Neither could walk away, after all, there wasn't a path to his ledge except the one he took as a snake. The angel remained perfectly still, held in Crawley's eyes, until Crawley blinked, releasing him. With a start, the angel looked from the ground next to him, where Crawley sat earlier, to where he now stood, and quickly raised his sword.

"Snake! You're demonic tricks won't work again! You can't escape-" Advancing as he spoke, his eyes suddenly doubled and he jerked, stumbled, and finally threw himself back, landing on the grass that barely covered the rocks. Meanwhile, his sword clattered among the mica shards.

"Demonic rocks," Crawley said with a toothy smile, and then shrugged. "Well, flashy black sharp rocks summoned by a demon for sunning. Won't be nice to the bare little tosey-wosies of an angel. You might suggest Heaven catch up on the latest fashion; they're called sandals."

Scowling, the angel tried to glare at him while healing his bleeding soles. Already picking up the sword, Crowley winked back and drove the blade into the rocks. Like dry wood pushed into hot coals, it bloomed into flame. Not the normal fire angels used, nor Hellfire, nothing so bright either way, but a twist. The memory of the lava these shiny black rocks once existed as, encouraged by a demon of Hell and sword of Heaven.

Distrusting this stranger and his too-perfect appearance, the other humans had stalled his attempts to reach Crawley. Sure, they gossiped about Crowley's hair and eyes, but he was familiar, he watched their kids, who never came to harm in his care. But the angel hadn't given up trying to drive him away or discorporate him in the years since, and he just intruded at the wrong moment. If the angel kept pushing, he'd eventually show up with wings and sword while Crawley was babysitting. He might have to leave Eve and her family to save them from Hell, but he'd not let an angel force him away.

With a last smile, more of a grimace, he tossed the sword to him. It landed in the angel's lap without cutting him, but the fire was angry and hungry, and Crawley flinched away as the angel discorporated. He miracled the remains away and the sword under the rocks, keeping it out of irresponsible angels', and curious human, hands. Humanity already had one angelic sword, traded away and lost, it probably shouldn't have two.

An undercurrent shivered through the land and he scowled. The earth helped provide the fire, it shouldn't mourn the angel's...

No, that hadn't started here.

Turning about, Crawley saw little but scraggly trees, bolders, grasses and rocks, hints of paths and huts but nothing clear, unsurprising since he'd chosen this spot to not be overseen. Feeling his name, he flicked a hand to leave the ledge then rushed. While Cain took after his father in stature, he inherited his mother's laughter and practicality. Abel physically resembled his mother more, with Adam's dedication and loyalty. It was about the boys, the earth mourned for them and it really, really shouldn't.

"Crawley. " Tears in his eyes, the young man stumbled to a halt, his terror becoming too-desperate relief. Cain grabbed his hand and stumbled as he pulled him up the path, the little boy so eager to show off his latest discovery walked with more ease. "It's Abel, you've gotta... You did it before, for that lamb. You need to help him."

"What happened?" he asked, as Cain turned into the field. His stomach twisted with a certainty he didn't - wouldn't - understand.

"We were talking - he was talking - and I-" He stopped when Crawley stumbled. If he kept talking, Crawley didn't hear him.

Crumbled on the ground, bleeding from an injury to his head, Abel wasn't there. A weird joke after the angel, his body here and yet he was gone.

"The lamb. I know you did that, you said it was luck, but-"

"That's a sheep," Crawley said, swallowing with difficulty, the world swaying around him. "Abel isn't a sheep."

"He spent so much time with them!"

Dropping to his knees, Crawley tried anyway. Reaching for the essence of Abel, ready to heal his injury if he could find it. Instead, he only sensed how small the injury was, how unimportant to the whole. Humans were so much more fragile than he understood. 

And he felt the anger the caused the injury.

"Cain." He raised his eyes to him, not knowing what else to say.

"It was an accident!" he lied, raising his hands as he stepped back. "I didn't mean, I didn't..." In that moment, he'd meant it. Not even a demon to tempt him to it, just jealousy and resentment. But that moment passed and, like all the others, it couldn't be taken back. Not the desire, not the action. "You have to bring him back!"

"I can't. I'm a demon, Cain, a snake. I can't bring the dead back." He hardly admitted humans could die, hadn't really believed it, this leaving without leaving. That angel would return to Heaven, get a new body and come back. Not Abel. Abel couldn't come back.

"What about the angel? Can he? He's an angel! He does whatever Mom and Dad tell him. He can-"

"He can't," Crowley interrupted, flinching at Cain's desperation. And Crawley just got rid of him, his attention in the wrong place. He watched the children, he watched Cain since he was a baby and Abel since he was born. He encouraged Eve to leave the Garden; she and Adam welcomed him. He should've watched the children, paid more attention to... He failed. he failed them all. "He won't. Even if he would, you'd need to ask Adam or Eve to ask him to. And he'd want a price." Demons made deals, not angels, but they weren't that different. Crawley stood. "I'd let him take me if-"

"What! No! No, you can't leave! Mom'll..." The enormity of Abel's death hit him as he imagined Eve's reaction to Crawley leaving, which would be nothing to her youngest son lay in the soil, murdered by her oldest son. "No!" He stumbled away, shook his head again then bolted.

Standing next to the body of the man, once a boy who tried climbing his hair, Crawley didn't stop the older brother. Kneeling again, he healed the small, unimportant injury and tried to call the bubbly yet studious soul back again. It felt, if he just understood it better, or if his own chest didn't clench and his eyes burn, he should be able to succeed. So he tried again. And again.

And again.

Worse than a rebellion. Worse than an apple. He finally covered Abel with his overcloak, a garment he wore only because Adam gifted it to him, and wearily retraced his steps. Cain hadn't returned, but Eve's daughters greeted him, as did Eve, who frowned at his expression. When he tried to confess, his words failed him as well. Nothing he tried worked. It never really had.

"I should've... If I could've..." But he still couldn't find the words. "I'd rather it'd been me. I'd rather I'd bitten your heel. Not this. Hate me. It's my fault, not his."

Sitting on the bench in a whitewashed room, the angel opened and closed his hands, desperate to calm his nerves. His trial would start soon, sometime soon, they kept saying, when they remembered him. Sometimes, he supposed they'd forgotten him entirely and he didn't know if that was worse or a relief.

An arch opened. Not part of a wall, just an arch in the white next to him, and Archangel Gabriel strode in, an angel hurrying to keep after him, glancing around at the white walls and dropping his eyes. Rather than a solid presence, his outline wavered. He'd no body, which was odd as they'd made a point of getting everyone a body earlier, and he smelled of fire. Not Hellfire, like a demon might, or a flaming sword, as an angelic soldier recently in battle might, or even like the few fires he smiled on Earth burning wood. 

"You encountered the Serpent of Eden, didn't you, Principality Azaphale?"

The first time anyone recalled his title since they called him back, and spoken by Gabriel without any direct resentment, and he could only frown back. "I'm sorry. The what of Eden?"

"The demon Crawley. He tempted the humans to take the apple."

"Oh, yes, him. Yes, I did." He'd said so any number of times and could even recite the abridged conversation he'd had with Crawley. "Has he had the title long?" How long had he waited in this white room?

"He didn't strike you down?" The other angel pushed forward, only partially there. "He didn't turn your own sword against you? He didn't discorporate you?"

"Um, no. No, he didn't seem... inclined to try."

"You didn't smite him," Gabriel commented.

"I was most concerned about the humans," Aziraphale said, repeating himself once more. "They're on their own. I didn't know what would happen to them."

"They're not on their own," the angel said, snide as he scrunched his nose and shot a look at Gabriel. "He got to the humans before I arrived. They defended him. They liked him."

"They did?" Glancing from the angel to Gabriel, neither of them contradicted him. He supposed Crawley had felt badly for the humans getting kicked out. "Well, he convinced them once, and would know how to do it again. He can be cunning." Aziraphale wasn't certain about cunning, though it seemed the right thing to say. On the wall, Crawley had been chatty and sympathetic, surprisingly good company for a demon.

"With deadly results," Gabriel said. "Their second son has entered Heaven's Gates, murdered by their first son."

"What!" He started to his feet. "Adam and Eve's sons? They..." Covering his mouth, he couldn't think what to say, but revised his opinion of Crawley. "Murdered? By... What did the demon do?"

"The angel we sent to handle the demon Crawley was discorporated just before the one human murdered the other, so we're uncertain." Gabriel glared at the other angel, who drew back once more, gnawing on his lip. Drawing in a deep breath, Gabriel turned his attention Aziraphale, his expression almost pleasant. Or intended to be pleasant, which just made it unsettling. "You dealt with with the demon Crawley, Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate. We have concluded the demon Crawley did not cross over your section of the Wall to enter the Garden nor did he escape over it afterward - not until we had called you back. While you were there, you ensured he did not murder anyone." He didn't looked at the other angel, but he didn't need to. "We've decided to overlook the whole apple thing if you can keep an eye on him, keep him from causing trouble."

"On Earth?"

"Unless you'd rather stay here," he said with a shrug, glancing around as if Aziraphale actually had a choice or would choose staying. "He's stayed on Earth since the beginning. We're certain he'll remain longer. Are you up for it?"

"Go to Earth and keep the demon Crawley from causing trouble," he agreed with a nod and energetic smile. Anything to get out of here, and he wanted to see what the humans had done so far. "I won't let you down again. I'll watch him."


End file.
